


Hiring Day

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s06e18 La Palabra, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-30
Updated: 2008-10-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh and Donna find their way back to each other after the convention. AU





	Hiring Day

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: A/N: This is a little piece of fluff that was inspired by a post on the JDTalk Yahoo Group following the first airing of La Palabra. It was pounded out and posted on JDFF in exactly one hour. As a result it was chock full of errors. Since 2162 hadn't aired yet, I actually had Matt Santos' middle name as David. *grin* This has been gathering dust on my hard drive ever since, until I handed it to Phil for some editing. (Thanks Phil!) So now I suppose I should archive it. When it was first written it qualified as a simple post-ep. Now though it's way..way...waaaay AU. I hope you like it anyway.  


* * *

Georgetown…7:30 AM Saturday

Early rising was something of a vice, one that years in the White House had deeply ingrained in him. So here he was, awake at an ungodly hour on a weekend. He not only had a weekend off, but these were his first actual days off after months of campaigning. So ordered by Matt Santos who, under orders from his wife, was doing the same this weekend, starting with a leisurely breakfast with the Bartlets this morning. Matt was going to spend part of his day soaking up some of what Jed Bartlet had to teach him (making Josh’s job both easier and harder at the same time), while Helen Santos took “First Lady” lessons from Abbey Bartlet. Josh had made a joke to Helen about not measuring the Residence windows for curtains quite yet - One that had fallen flat. She still hadn’t forgiven Josh completely for dragging her husband, and by extension herself and her children, onto this political merry-go-round.

Still, Josh could relax, the convention was over. So, why wasn’t he relaxed? He was sprawled out on his couch, letting his muscles fully un-kink for the first time since filing day in New Hampshire. Glancing around he took in the condition of his apartment, which was shabby to say the least. Coming in at 2:00 in the morning he’d failed to notice how filthy it was. Now, in the cold light of day, he couldn’t miss it. At some point during the campaign his contract with his housecleaning service had run out, and his attention had been so focused on getting Santos to the top of the heap that he hadn’t had time to renew it. He sighed and mumbled softly, “*She* used to handle that.” *She* used to handle a lot of things that weren’t strictly her job… including him. Glancing around the room again he took in its condition and decided that it was a metaphor for his life, both the private and professional sides were messy and cluttered without Donna to keep it all straight. He missed her.

He snorted in disgust at his incipient pity party. Turning to his left he ran his finger through the deep dust on the end table next to the couch and shook his head. With sudden energy Josh sat up abruptly and reached for the remote on the coffee table, sneezing as he stirred a cloud of dust. Determined to ignore it he pointed the remote at the TV and clicked it. Nothing happened. Muttering he rapped it sharply, sneezing as he released still more dust. He tried it again. Still dead. He glanced around thinking and frowned as he realized that he had no clue whether or not he had any batteries, or where they might be if he did. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He’d seized some control of his political life months ago when he’d gone to Houston. Now it was time to finish the job. Dropping the remote on the table with a clatter he stood up. “This is my day *off*, I’ve got to be nuts,” he said to himself as he headed for the kitchen closet and its’ cache of cleaning supplies.

Four hours later…

Josh collapsed on the couch yet again. This time he had an odd inner glow of satisfaction that had been missing before. The dust and dirt were gone. The air smelled of Pledge, disinfectant, and floor wax. His washer was cycling its’ last load, and he had his dry-cleaning bagged and tagged for drop off. Thank God he’d had the sense to clean out his refrigerator and leave it cleaned out back months ago when he’d started this horserace. Otherwise the resulting ‘science experiments’ might have been discovering how to make and use fire by now. The place was clean, and it was organized. And more importantly, he knew where everything was - Where he wanted it to be. He felt good, in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. He picked up the remote and clicked on the television. *Yes*, he’d found the batteries, all sorts of them, in a kitchen drawer. He was looking for a ball game, any ball game, when his phone rang. Determined to relax once more this weekend he let the phone machine pick it up, however the voice on the phone made his spine snap erect. 

It was Abigail Bartlet. “Josh! I know that you’re there. Matt told us that you had the day off, and I *know* you. You’ll den up like a wounded bear and not come out until you’re forced to. A day off doesn’t have to mean hibernation.” There was a pause. “Pick up the damn phone or I’ll have Ron Butterfield over there quicker than you can say ‘violation of due process’.” 

Josh sighed and snagged the phone. “Ma’am, do you realize that this is actually the first time that I’ve sat down all morning?”

Abbey chuckled. “Why should that bother me? From what I could see, you rarely sat down in the eight years that I’ve known you.” She paused. “Come to dinner.”

“Why?”

Another voice came on the phone. “Because it’s chili night and my wife invited you Josh.”

Josh’s spine snapped straighter. “Mr. President! I’m sorry… I didn’t realize…”

“Meaning that you’d feel free to blow Abbey off, but not me?” came the dry rejoinder.

“No sir, I mean… I meant…there’s just no good way out of this, is there?” Josh stammered.

“I don’t see one. We’ll see you at 7:30, dress casually. This is a family night. Everyone will be there. This time the gate will have your name, “the president finished, referring to an embarrassing incident early in the primaries that had left Josh standing in the lobby until Toby had come to vouch for him to the guards.

“I’ll be there sir, and thank you, Mr. President.”

Jed Bartlet’s smile came through the phone. How he managed to project that was trick that Josh had never quite figured out. “You’re welcome, Josh. It’ll be good to see you home.”

“Thank you again, Sir.”

Abbey came back on the phone. “I wanted to say goodbye, Josh. But before I do, I need to tell you something. You and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but I’ve missed your jackass presence around here.” 

Josh smiled irreverently. “I’ll try to remember to bring some with me tonight, Ma’am.”

Abigail chuckled. “Being you, you couldn’t help it. But if you trot it out tonight I’ll have the Secret Service toss you over the fence.”

Josh laughed aloud for the first time since… since Donna had left. “Message received and understood, Ma’am. I’ll be a good boy, Scouts Honor.”

“You were never a Boy Scout, and you’re never a good boy Joshua. But you *are* a good man. It will be good to see you tonight. Wear that maroon sweater tonight, the pull over that Donna got you last Christmas.”

Josh blinked. “The president said that dress was casual.”

Abigail smiled wickedly on her end of the phone. “A pull over and slacks aren’t casual enough? What were you *going to wear*, jeans and a tee-shirt?”

Josh was stammering again. “I… but… okay… ma’am.”

Abbey chuckled again. “Jed may be president, but I wear the pants around here.” Then she added silently, “At least I do tonight.” She paused for effect then finished, “Goodbye Josh.”

“Goodbye ma’am.”

Hanging up his phone he glanced at the clock. It was barely noon. It was time to get lunch. Takeout. He strolled in to kitchen and began pawing through his horde of takeout menus. He settled on Luan’s, wondering if they’d even remember their best customer from times gone by. It turned out that they did. 

The Residence…Same time…

Abbey hung up the phone and looked over at where her husband stood smirking at her. 

“Well Abigail, I’ve played my role. Can I get back to the people’s business now?” he asked.

Abbey smiled. “This *is* the people’s business Jethro. Matt’s going to need Josh at his best… possibly for as long as eight years. You and I both know that he wouldn’t survive another four years here without help. And you know that there’s only one person qualified to handle that job.”

Jed nodded. “She doesn’t work for him anymore.”

“She doesn’t have too,” Abbey shot back. “She’ll only have to work *with* him. But that’s not what we’re talking about, and you know it.”

Jed sighed. “Of all the things I’ve regretted…” he paused. “All right Mrs. Yenta, I just hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way.” 

“I’ll have the Secret Service on stand-by in case he needs convincing,” Abbey responded with a smirk. “Now go back to work. There was to be some injustice somewhere that you can stamp out before supper.”

Giving Abbey a hug and a kiss he murmured, “For you, I’ll do my best.”

“I love you too,” she murmured back.

Then he was gone, back to the Oval, and she began planning the evening’s entertainment. The first order of business was to find out whether or not Helen Santos had managed to fulfill her part of the plan.

The Residence…7:40 PM

Josh was ushered into the president’s private study. It felt vaguely uncomfortable to be here now, as if the place itself was making him feel like an intruder. For most of a decade this building had been a major part of his life. Within reason, he used to come and go here as he pleased. Now he felt like a stranger. The memory of how it used to be, and how it was now, collided in him in a way that made him more than a little sad. It must have shown, because a voice said, “Come in Josh, and stop looking like your puppy died.” 

The President rose from his desk and came around to greet his surrogate son. “You’re home now.”

Josh smiled half-heartedly. “Am I? You know I still feel guilty about abandoning ship.”

Jed smiled warmly. “You didn’t abandon anything. You just went out to find “Bartlet, The Next Generation”. He guided Josh over to some comfortable chairs and motioned him to sit down. “Hoynes might have made an acceptable president at one time, but his personal weaknesses pretty much shot that idea down. And Russell was never a viable option. I simply couldn’t intervene to prevent him from succeeding me. So Leo and I sent you out there, and trusted your instincts.” Jed smiled proudly. “You really came through for us I think. This election will make the last one look tame by comparison.” He paused. “Are you ready for it?”

Josh smiled back, though there was something vaguely shark-like about his expression, “I have it in hand, though I’d appreciate your input. I’d just like to point out that, while I may like Vinick personally and I think he’d make a good president… for a Republican, that won’t stop me from helping Matt Santos kick his ass.” Josh looked around. “Where is everyone? And come to that, aren’t you supposed to be cooking chili, Sir?”

“They’re waiting for us. I wanted some time alone with you, and the chili is done. It’s just simmering now. Long simmering is the secret to good chili, did you know that?”

Josh shuddered, seeing a chili-cooking seminar in his immediate future. So he took the coward’s way out and changed the subject. “I was actually going to spend Sunday reviewing the plans for the campaign. The DNC has been in touch with me already with a budget, and a few specific recommendations as to personnel. I have to review who we have, who we need, and where I can get them from. I plan to raid the remains of Russell’s organization if I can. He had some good people with him.” Josh paused. “Speaking of Bingo Bob, he isn’t in the building, is he?” 

The president shook his head dolefully. “No, the Vice-President is back home in Colorado, sulking. If he were here, I’d put on extra protection since we’d have the three people he hates most in one room at one time.”

Josh sat up sharply. “Santos will be here tonight?” 

“Do you think that a Tejano like Santos would miss good chili?” Bartlet responded. “Even though he *did* question whether or not a New Englander would know good chili from a hole in the ground. I had to have him at my shoulder during the entire process just to prove I wasn’t going to poison him. You’ve really got to work on that respect issue with him, you know that, don’t you Josh?”

Josh snickered. “Welcome to my nightmare, Sir. I have to say, it made the campaign interesting. This was my first time in the center seat, and it sure made things… intriguing.”

Bartlet snorted. “Like I did?”

Josh grinned. “You… squared and cubed, Sir.”

There was a knock at the door and Abbey stuck her head in. “Are you two done conspiring? There are hungry people out here.” She stared pointedly at Josh. “Including your boss, his wife, and your friends who’ve missed you a *lot*.”

Both men stood up. 

“I’ve missed them too, Ma’am.” 

Jed Bartlet smiled paternally. “Then let’s eat, son. Soup’s on.”

They entered the main family area/living room in the residence and Josh paused at the door, letting the familiar sounds and smells wash over him and bathe his soul. Loved voices, laughter and companionship reached out to him. The nagging feeling that had dogged him all evening, that feeling of being an interloper here, shuddered and fell away. He was home. Then it hit him - A familiar scent. Her perfume.

Like a tracking-radar he scanned the room to find her standing next to CJ, her hair shining like a beacon. They made eye contact and his heart did the same back flip that it always did when she gave him that explosive smile of hers. That smile was lethal, and it could light up a room… like this one. 

Abigail Bartlet nudged him from behind. “CJ invited her, like Toby invited Sam.”

Startled, Josh sought out Toby in the crowd and saw his old friend Sam standing next to him, smiling broadly. Whatever he was going to say was lost – the President stepped out to take center stage.

“My friends, this is a special night - A night of change and growth. Our time in this place grows shorter by the day, but the magic and wonder of it will never leave us. Some of us have fallen along the way in our journey to reach this time and place. Others of us,” he paused to take in Sam, Josh, and Donna and nod at them in turn, “have had to leave and go out into the world to find their own futures. They’ve never strayed far from our thoughts, and now the prodigal children have returned, standing taller than they did when they left us. They’ve made us proud. Samuel, Joshua, Donnatella, welcome home.” 

Josh felt his own eyes stinging a bit and noticed that neither Sam nor Donna seemed to be immune to the moment either.

The President went on. “Tonight isn’t just about the return of old friends, it’s also the introduction of new friends. It’s about new beginnings. So, before we all settle in for chili and beer, I’d like to surrender the floor to the next President or the United States, Matthew Vincente Santos.”

The applause was deafening as Matt Santos stepped out and shook hands with the President, who stepped back to put his arm around his wife. 

“Thank you,” he shouted, as he waved the applause down. “Let’s hope that the rest of America agrees with you.”

“I want to thank the President and the First Lady for inviting us here today and making us feel welcome. As daunting as it feels, I think that coming here to live and work could be the crowning achievement of my life.” He stared directly at Josh, “All the same Josh, I now have a better understanding of why my wife wants to kick your ass for getting us into this. I may just help her… in four years.”

“Eight years,” came the chorus of disagreement from around the room.

Santos had the grace to look humble. “You never know what the future will bring. When I was a poor Latino street kid in Houston, I never imagined that I would walk the halls of Congress.” He smiled at his wife. “I have Helen to thank for that. For making me stand up and rise to the challenge to make a better world for our children.” He went on. “As a freshman congressman, I never imagined that I would or could reach higher.” He glanced at his wife and she nodded. “I owe that to Joshua Lyman. He dared to see something in me that I couldn’t.” Santos looked directly at Josh. “You made me rise to the challenge of making a better world for *all* our children. I hope that you never have cause to regret it.”

Josh pumped his fist into the air once to show that he never would.

“As the President said, tonight marks some new beginnings.” He grinned at Josh. “I know that you hate it when I meddle in what you consider your territory, but part of the agenda tonight is to introduce you to some new hires to fill out the national campaign staff. The President has agreed to let his own staff consult for us as there time allows, but there are positions that we need to fill.” 

Santos grinned as he saw his Campaign Manager frown. He and Josh had gone round and round on this issue. Josh hated it when Matt ‘micro-managed’. He saw his boss’s job as thinking about the big things, not ‘worrying about who was answering the phones’. Santos had really been looking forward to this, ever since they’d hammered it out and made the required phone calls this morning.

“I’d like to introduce our new head speechwriter, Communications Director Samuel Norman Seaborn.” 

That made Josh practically jump out of his skin. Looking at Sam he mouthed, “For real?” Sam nodded back and called out. “You forgot to come and find me this time Josh, so Toby did it for you!” 

Further thought was cut off as Santos went on. “We thought long and hard about this next position. We’re going to need a media coordinator, preferably one with ties to the previous administration. After consulting with the Bartlets and their senior staff, we decided that there was only one real candidate.”

Josh felt his skin crawl. This *so* reminded him of a similar situation. “Please, not Mandy, don’t let it be Mandy,” he prayed silently to God… The almighty must have been listening. 

“I’d like you to meet our new media coordinator, Donnatella Moss. She’ll be handling some of my wife’s staff issues as well, but only until she can interview and hire a full time chief of staff for her.”

Donna’s fair skin had turned bright red at the sustained applause. Toby and Sam started whistling and others joined in. She ducked her head and then looked up at Josh. He looked stunned at first, and then happy, and then really happy… then the strangest thing happened - He looked proud - Proud of her. The early days of the primary campaign had strained their bond with each other, but in the end they’d rediscovered the banter that they’d lost so long ago. Not the mean, sarcastic brand that had marked their final weeks and months as boss and assistant, but borderline tender and sweet variety that had gotten them through the hard times and the endless nights in the office. She smiled back at him and froze as she saw him start walking towards her…Ten feet… Five feet… Arm’s-length. He invaded her personal space and hugged her tightly as the applause shifted tone and the whistles shifted towards the suggestive. “Welcome aboard, Donnatella,” he spoke her name like a caress, “and no, I don’t want you to bring me coffee, ever.”

“Excuse me?” came the interruption. Josh and Donna broke apart and looked at Matt Santos as the applause died down. “That concludes my portion of the festivities. So, in the honorable words of my father, let’s eat! The chili is served!”

There was a slow movement towards the other end of the room where the stewards were bringing out the battered old kettle that the President insisted was the secret of his chili. Donna made as if to follow, but Josh halted her. She looked at him and smiled.

“Did you know anything about this?” she asked.

Josh shook his head. “I had no clue. They must have had something planned when they called me before lunch, but I didn’t know.” He paused. “I was going to try and hire you, but I was trying to think of an approach that wouldn’t turn you off. I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to turn back the clock.”

“When Helen Santos called me this morning around ten and asked me to come in for an interview I was shocked. I’d been updating my résumé for days, but the taint of the negative campaign that Russell ran looked like a pretty big obstacle to future employment inside the beltway. I assumed that the door was closed. Will and Russell got pretty desperate as Super-Tuesday approached and they saw Santos gaining ground. Some of the stuff they did was pretty vicious.” She looked down at the floor and looked back up at him. “Josh, I never… I mean… I don’t know how they knew about the PTSD.” 

Josh stopped her with two fingers across her lips. “I knew that it wasn’t you Donnatella, and I made sure that everyone else did too. That secret was too widely known in the White House to be kept. Like Leo’s alcoholism.” Josh shrugged. “In the end it worked against them. It made me out to be a hero… which I’m not.”

“Oh yes you are,” Donna said tremulously. “You gave me a chance when no one else would. You lived when you should have died. You’ve gotten a dark horse candidate nominated for president twice.”

Josh shook his head as he took her hand in his and traced her knuckles with his thumb. “Donna, I may have given you the chance, but that was because you sold me on *you*. You made me believe in you. And in all the years since, you’ve never left me in doubt that I made the right choice. Not even when you left to join Russell. I lived because you made me want to live. I couldn’t leave the world while you were still in it, like I couldn’t leave the White House while you were still in it. You were wiser than I was. You cut the cord, and set me free to do what I had to do. If you hadn’t, we’d still be lost in the West Wing, and Bingo Bob would be the nominee by default.”

Donna winced a bit at his barb at her former boss, but she had to admit that he really wasn’t that far off the mark. But that was overridden by what she heard in his words, unspoken. “Josh, are you trying to tell me something?” He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips - Nothing ardent or even that passionate, but it startled her and jolted her right down to her toenails.

“Yes, but not here and not now. Would you go out with me tomorrow night?”

Donna blinked. “You mean…out? As in ‘out on a date’?”

Josh grinned and nodded. 

Donna sighed. “I wish that I could, but I have to hit the ground running if I’m going to be up to speed by the time we have our first staff meeting. Ronna’s here tonight and she promised to hand over whatever work they have pending, along with the policy briefs. I have media contacts to make. Venues to arrange, and…

He leaned in and silenced her with another kiss. “Okay then, tonight.”

“T-t-t-tonight?” she stuttered.

“Yup, here and now,” he said as some of his old cockiness reasserted itself. “And later I’ll take you back to my apartment, or yours, and we’ll discuss that thing that I’m trying to tell you. Then, depending on the outcome of those negotiations, you might call me in the morning, then we’ll head to campaign headquarters together and round up everything you need, and secure you a decent office to work in.” He paused and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Of course that means that you can’t stray more than arm’s length from me for the rest of chili night.”

Donna grinned. “Arm’s length, Joshua? What are you, a caveman?”

Josh abandoned pretense and leaned in to whisper fiercely, “When it comes to you, yes.”

Donna shivered at the warmth of his breath on her skin. “Come on, you have to give me bathroom breaks, and let me talk to the sisterhood.”

Josh grinned and tugged her towards where their friends were dishing up chili in a noisy crowd. “Never let in be said that I’m unkind to the people that I love. Unlimited bathroom room privileges and a ten-foot margin of separation.”

Donna elbowed him sharply as they walked side-by-side. “Ten feet? What am I, on a leash? There’s no way I’m going to…” she paused. “Josh what did you say before? It sounded like said that you lov…” 

The rest of the word was lost in a kiss that was no less passionate for being eight years in the making. There was no way she could mistake this one for anything but what is was. Nor could their friends. The applause started again. Scattered at first, then growing thunderous, and accompanied by hoots of approbation. It was a standing ovation.

And it was about damn time.

It was hiring day. 

 

The End


End file.
